Penalty Play

by Jami Davenport

  “Yeah, I guess so.”

  His mom sat on a barstool and regarded him with amazingly brilliant green eyes. “Would you like to talk about it?”

  “Of course not,” he said, laughing. “But you’ll twist my arm anyway.”

  “I will. Matt, it’s been nearly three years. It’s time to move on.”

  “I have moved on. You don’t think I still carry a torch for Brie, do you?”

  “No, I don’t believe you ever carried a torch for her. She was convenient, pretty to look at, and comfortable. You’re a man who likes the familiar, not the unfamiliar.”

  “If it’s not broke, why fix it?”

  “But it was broken.” Leave it to his mother to bully her way past his bullshit and get right to the point.

  Matt sat down next to her and stared at the label on his beer. “I know.”

  “You need to get back in the dating pool.”

  “Every time I think of starting over and going through that hell again, I can’t muster the energy to do so. Hockey and the boys take all I have.” Matt sighed.

  He wanted sex. He didn’t miss the fights, the worry of where his wife was and what she was doing when he was on a road trip, or the knot in the pit of his stomach every time she flirted with one of the rookies. He missed having sex, the physical closeness, the orgasms, the boneless relaxation afterward.

  “Love isn’t hell if you pick the right person.”

  “And obviously, I’m not a valid judge of who is the right person for me.”

  “You were too young.”

  “Not that young. I was twenty-four when we married.”

  “Twenty-four is young. You’d led a sheltered life revolving around hockey. She came at you like a freight train with big boobs and long legs, and you never knew what hit you.”

  “Mom.” He chastised her and rolled his eyes.

  She crossed her arms over her chest and regarded him with a steely gaze she reserved for her children when they did something bad. “I’m not going to be here forever, Matt. I love taking care of the boys, don’t get me wrong, but I want to travel with my girlfriends, see the world. I’ve finally healed enough to move on myself. Your dad was an incredible man, and I have no interest in finding another, but I’m ready to live my life again. I want to take painting classes, maybe join a sailing club. I want to go home to Montreal.”

  Matt sat back, feeling as if he’d been slapped, and regarded his mother. This was a new development. She’d never voiced her concerns before, and shame wrapped its bony fingers around his throat, making it tough to speak. He’d been so immersed in his own troubles, he’d pretty much dismissed hers. He’d patted himself on the back for doing her a favor by giving her something meaningful to do after his dad died. The situation had been convenient for him. Only now did he realize how selfish he’d been.

  “I’m sorry. I had no idea.”

  She squeezed his arm and smiled. “No need to be sorry. We needed each other at a tough time in our lives. Now we should quit being each other’s crutch and walk on our own. You need a love interest other than hockey. The boys need a mother figure who isn’t as ancient as me.”

  “You aren’t ancient,” he protested.

  “Ah, you’re so sweet. Go practice that charm on a woman your own age.”

  “Charm?” He snorted.

  “You can be charming, honey, but you have to put effort into it.”

  “The thought of dating wears me out.”

  “Matt, I’m not asking you to find your true love. I’m asking you to let loose. Have some fun. Have a fling, for God’s sake.”

  “Mom!”

  “Yes, have a fling. How about that nice girl who used to hang out here with Amelia?”

  “Nice girl? You don’t mean Vi?” He stared incredulously at his mother, wondering if she’d hit her head or knocked down one too many of those lemon drops she liked so much.

  “Yes, that was her name, Vi. I liked her, and the two of you had enough chemistry to ignite a forest in the middle of a Seattle rainstorm.”

  “It’s not chemistry. It’s called intense dislike, easily mistaken by some as chemistry.”

  “Matt, I wasn’t born yesterday, or even in this century. I know sexual tension and undeniable chemistry when I see it. You two have it in spades. Why not act on it? It’s not like you’re going to marry the girl. At least, not yet.”

  Matt hated discussing his sex life with his mother. The entire convo was weird and disconcerting; even worse, she was suggesting a fling with Vi. Had she lost her mind? Had she and her female buddies taken up drugs while she visited Montreal last week? Or maybe they sniffed too much glue during their arts and crafts.

  “Vi is out of the question, but I’ll consider what you’ve said. It is time. For both of us.” He’d give her that much. If he didn’t, the nagging would exponentially increase by the minute.

  “Good,” she said with a satisfied smile.

  His mom thought she’d won the battle. Matt considered it a draw, which was good for him. When his mother was on a roll, she had tendency to beat a dead horse and not give up until the poor thing was reduced to a bloody pulp. Matt considered himself lucky he’d escaped relatively unscathed—this time.

  Heaven help him.

  He didn’t want a fling. He had a habit of turning his flings into serious relationships. Fuck, he’d been blind enough to marry one of them. This time, he’d take it slow and pick the right woman. He wanted a nice, sweet lady who knitted scarves for the homeless, went to church on Sunday, and wore tasteful clothes that covered all the important parts. He wanted someone who would love his children as if they were her own. He didn’t want her to replace their absentee mother, but to fill in the empty spots and find her own place in their hearts and his. He wanted what he’d never had: a woman he could tell his problems and get responses full of caring wisdom, a woman who’d be his partner, his better half, his everything. He wanted what his parents had.

  Maybe he wanted the impossible, but he couldn’t settle for less, no matter how much he lusted after a certain inked woman.

  But would he be settling if they both knew up front it was only temporary?

  * * * *

  On Tuesday, Matt left on a three-game, five-day road trip, which gave him plenty of time to ponder his sex life, or lack thereof. For so long, he’d concentrated on the team and his boys to the exclusion of all else. It felt weird and a little selfish to be thinking of himself, but his mother was right if for no other reason than the boys needed a mother figure in the house.

  Matt tried to interest himself in some of the businesswomen hanging around the hotel, but his dick had other ideas. His boy wanted Vi, and right now no one else satisfied it.

  The Sockeyes won the first two with strong performances from Coop and Cedric. Matt took his position as alternate captain seriously and joined the guys for dinner and partying after game two. He wasn’t much into partying, never had been, but he and Coop both agreed their presence kept the young guys under control and out of jail.

  Matt sat at a long table in a secluded alcove of the large hotel bar, flanked by Ice and Coop. Across from them sat Cedric, aka Smooth. Judging by the wicked gleam in Smooth’s eyes, he was sexting with his girl, Bella. He didn’t look up once from the phone.

  Coop rolled his eyes, and Ice coughed. Matt said nothing. Brick pulled up a seat next to them, slumming with boring guys, having been recently taken off the market by Amelia. If only Matt could find a woman like that. She loved kids, and was sexy as hell and loyal to the end. She also loved Brick with blind devotion.

  Matt glanced down the table, checking off who was present and who was missing. All his teammates were there except one—Hot Rod. The poor guy had been fighting off and on with his wife during the entire road trip. The woman was a bitch, and no one on the team liked her—for good reason. She’d drop her pants and screw anything. Only Rod was in denial.

  As Matt squinted in the dimly lit room, he could make out Rod’s tall body. A se
cond later, the poor bastard walked into the bar, shoving his phone in his pocket and sporting a huge frown.

  Things weren’t going well. Matt had taken the young player under his wing, knowing exactly how it felt to marry a puck bunny who wasn’t the least bit faithful. The pain was still fresh, even if it had been close to three years since he’d been wrapped up in Brie’s brand of drama.

  Matt grabbed a chair and pulled it between him and Coop, forcing the other guys to scoot down and make room. Rod dropped into the chair, commandeered an empty glass, and poured a beer from one of many pitchers scattered about the table. He tossed the beer back and poured another.

  “You can’t let her affect your game,” Coop said, always touting team first.

  Rod looked at Coop with bloodshot eyes and sighed. “I’m trying not to.”

  Coop glanced over Rod’s head to Matt and raised a brow.

  Matt took his cue. “What’s going on?” he asked.

  “She’s not answering—again. I told her I’d call her after the game. She should’ve been expecting it.”

  “Try texting her,” Brick said helpfully, but the pity in his eyes was obvious.

  “I did. Multiple times.” Rod hunched over his beer and gripped it in both hands.

  “That’s rough, man,” Smooth said.

  Rod ran his gaze around the group. “You all think she’s cheating on me, don’t you?”

  No one said a word. Their uncomfortable silence was enough of an answer. Rod’s jaw tightened, and his glare was ferocious. “Candy would never do that to me.”

  More silence and pitying glances.

  “She wouldn’t,” Rod protested.

  “Hey, buddy, if she is, you’ll know. Deep down, you’ll know.” Matt gave him a soft slap on the back and smiled at him. The pain in his teammate’s eyes caused a burning anger deep in his gut. The woman was an untrustworthy gold digger, and Rod deserved better.

  They switched to other subjects and took the heat off their unfortunate teammate. A few hours and a couple beers later, Matt excused himself from the table and headed to his room.

  “Hey, Matt, wait up.”

  Matt paused before the bank of elevators and turned to see Rod hurrying after him. He waited patiently.

  “Can we talk? Privately.”

  “Sure. How about over here?” Matt gestured to a small seating area in a dark corner of the lobby.

  They walked to the plush chairs and sank into them.

  “What’s up?”

  “You’ve been through this.”

  “So you’ve heard?”

  “Yeah, I mean, guys talk. You married a puck bunny after she claimed she was pregnant. She dumped you for another guy a few years ago. Did you see warning signs?”

  “They were there. I just didn’t want to see them. She practically booted my ass out of the house whenever there was a road trip. She enjoyed me being gone way too much. I did everything I could to please her, and all she did was bitch about how I wasn’t doing enough.”

  Rod listened intently, his eyes a storm of emotions. “When I’m on a road trip, she never answers the phone. Claims she goes to bed early.”

  “And you’re not buying it?”

  “Would you?”

  Okay, that was a loaded question Matt didn’t want to answer. “Doesn’t matter what I believe. I’m a little jaded on this subject. Do you believe her?”

  “No.” Rod wrung his hands and sighed. “I’m pretty sure she’s cheating on me. Remember that rookie who got sent down to Portland a month ago?”

  “Uh, yeah.” Matt knew the one. And there wasn’t a guy on the team who didn’t have his suspicions.

  “He texted her a picture of his junk. She said it was nothing. Just a joke between them.”

  Matt furrowed his brow and stared intently at Rod. Time for a little tough love. “And you believed her?”

  “No. There was other stuff, too, with other guys. Stuff I don’t want to talk about. She promised nothing happened. That they were just flirting, that she loved me and only me. I let it go. Am I an idiot?”

  The jury was out on that. Most likely Rod was an idiot who’d fallen for the wrong woman, but who was Matt to judge? Been there, done that. Didn’t get a cigar or even an attaboy. Instead, he got a broken heart and a healthy aversion to going down that particular road again.

  “Rod, I think you know in your heart what’s going on. Denying it doesn’t make the truth disappear. It’ll fester and fester until the wound is so infected, you think you’ll never recover.”

  Rod nodded solemnly. “Is that how you felt?”

  “Yeah, that’s still how I feel. She did a number on me and the boys. Your wife is doing a number on you, and the entire team knows it.” They were harsh words, but someone had to say them to this poor sap. “She’s been sniffing around for a while, trying to find a guy who’ll give her the life she wants. You became that guy, but any of us would’ve worked for her.”

  Rod swallowed and put his head in his hands.

  “I’m sorry, man. I can’t stand seeing you go through this, knowing damn well what’s going on. Cut her loose before she does any more damage to you or your bank account.”

  “I’ll think about what you’ve said.” Rod rose to his feet. Anger was etched in his face. Matt didn’t know if he was pissed at her, Matt, or himself.

  “Rod, if you need to talk more, I’m here.”

  Rod managed a wry smile. “Thanks.”

  Matt watched him go, his own gut tied in knots. Rod’s anguish resurfaced past pain. He knew what betrayal and denial felt like.

  He’d lived with it for years.

  Chapter 4—Split the Defense

  Vi gladly accepted Amelia and Brick’s invitation to an afternoon dinner on the third Sunday in January. She was honored they’d chosen her as their first guest in their new home. They’d moved into the houseboat on Lake Union less than a month ago.

  Once Vi got beyond the environmental impacts of such a place, she loved the idea of living in a houseboat, listening to the water lapping against the dock, and perhaps even the gentle roll of being on water rather than land.

  Situated at the end of the dock, their two-story houseboat had a wide covered porch that opened onto Lake Union. Vi had grown up in the desert, so water scared her a bit, not to mention she couldn’t swim to save her soul, not that she’d tell anyone. Her friends thought she was a free spirit from Berkeley, California. She’d never said that, just alluded to it, and when they assumed she’d grown up in sunny California she didn’t correct them. Just as she didn’t correct people who thought her father was a college professor and her mother, a nurse. The truth was far from her concocted story—try professional gambler and Vegas showgirl.

  Vi despised liars, yet she’d become one out of necessity.

  There’d been multiple occasions when she’d almost told Amelia the entire sad story. Amelia’s family wouldn’t win any family of the year prizes, either. She’d understand. Yet Vi held back. To give voice to her past gave it power. She didn’t want to give her past power. She lived in the moment. The past was gone, dead, buried, never to be resurrected. She was a new Vi with a new name and new lease on life. No one needed to know more than that.

  Despite her logic, she felt like a fraud.

  Pushing away all negative thoughts, she plastered a smile on her face, squared her shoulders, and rapped on the door. Before she could lower her hand, the door swept open, and three munchkins stood on the other side, beaming with childhood joy and in various stages of disarray. They’d been finger painting or something. Macy, Brick’s daughter, grinned up at her. Andy and Joey were here, which meant—

  Vi glanced past the kids, unable to stop her eyes from locking on Matt.

  Oh, yeah. He was here, and he was frowning at her as if she’d brought a plague of locusts along with her. Vi ignored his penetrating stare, but she felt the heat of it practically melt the clothes off her body. She could work with surliness. Attitude could be channeled into pas
sion and an asset when you’re naked.

  She bent down to group-hug the kids. She’d never been one to enjoy hanging with kids, but these three were growing on her. She appreciated their joy and honesty, something she didn’t see from most adults.

  “Vi, you wanna see the picture I’m painting?” Joey grinned up at her, a rainbow of colors smeared across his face. Vi wondered if he’d left any paint on the paper.

  “Sure.” She allowed herself to be led to the newspaper-covered table, waving at Brick and Amelia sipping drinks in the kitchen area.

  “What do you think?” Joey said proudly, pointing at his painting. Vi squinted at the pink elephant with what looked like a huge penis hanging between its legs.

  “It’s really nice.” She pointed at the penis and forced a straight face. “What’s that?”

  “His leg.”

  She couldn’t resist a glance at Matt, who was now in full-blown scowl mode. “Ahhh.” She decided not to point out the elephant had five legs so Matt would let her live.

  Vi oohed and ahhed over the other pictures, not much better than Joey’s but less obscene. Macy’s was a multicolored parrot, and Andy’s was a hockey player. No surprise there. Joey appeared to be the only one with an unorthodox mind like Vi’s.

  Vi escaped to the adult section and gratefully took the Chardonnay Amelia offered her. Brick winked at her, and Vi winked back. Brick was one of the hottest guys she’d ever laid her eyes on, yet he did nothing for her. Matt was average-looking with a way-beyond-average body. At least, what she’d seen of it. And Matt, for reasons she couldn’t explain, ticked all her boxes. She’d never cared much about a pretty face. She cared about a guy’s body, and more importantly, his soul, but this thing with Matt wasn’t anything but physical. They weren’t soul mates, didn’t even like each other, but they had it going on in spades. And Vi never ignored chemistry. To do so would insult the cosmos.

  Matt was a tough one, though. Right now, he was frowning at her as if she’d done her stripper act right here in the kitchen in front of his children.

  She ignored his evil eye and sipped her wine. “I love what you’ve done with this place. Very nautical.”